


Crash into You

by nontoxic



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, hospital au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-28
Updated: 2014-10-28
Packaged: 2018-02-23 00:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2527310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nontoxic/pseuds/nontoxic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Compound fracture of his left tibia, shattered patella requiring replacement, broken ulna, two broken ribs, and three fractured vertebrae. </p><p>Fantastic.</p><p>His doctor was just as warm and nice as the nurse – Oliver, he learned his name was – and Connor hated it. He wanted to hate them. </p><p>---</p><p>Connor is in a bad car accident. Oliver is his nurse.</p><p> </p><p>aka the hospital au no one asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crash into You

Life was just… Life is great. Life is like floating in a cloud mid-day. The sun shining… The birds chirping in perfect synchronization.  It’s so bright, so, so bright. And the birds are a little… shrill. But life is still perfect, and Connor feels fantastic.

But then Connor opens his eyes and sees a fucking angel. He has to be dead.

“Connor? Connor? Can you hear me?”

“You’re so pretty.” The pretty man blushes and Connor feels like his arm is weightless as it floats up to touch the man’s face. “God, you’re so pretty.”

The man gently takes Connor by the wrist and returns his arm to his side. “Connor, do you know what today’s date is?”

“Like, honestly, you’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen.”

Someone snorts to his other side, but he can’t be bothered to tear his eyes away from this perfect angel, watching as his beautiful, _beautiful_ hands write something in the silver (Harp? Angels have harps, right? But do they write in them? Is he playing the harp? Why can’t Connor hear it?) clipboard as the other voice tells him, “Okay, so, still under the effects of the anesthesia.”

“You’re so beautiful. Who are you?”

“My name is Oliver, I’ll be your nurse, that’s Dr. Castillo, she’ll be overseeing your recovery.”

“Who cares? God, you’re so _pretty._ ”

The female voice laughs again before saying, “Alright, Oliver. You take care of this. I’ll be back in an hour. Page me if it wears off before then.”

Connor heard footsteps and finally, _finally,_ they were alone. “I wanna know everything about you. Are you an angel? Am I dead?”

Oliver smiles and if Connor wasn’t sure he was dead before, he knows for sure he is now. “You know, I’ve been doing this for five years, and no one has ever asked me if I’m an angel.”

“They’re fucking idiots then, because _God_ , you are so beautiful. I think I’m in love with you. I wanna marry you. _You are so pretty._ ”

The man blushes and looks away, telling him, “Maybe you should try going back to sleep.”

Connor suddenly realizes how heavy his eyes are, but he reaches out and grabs the man’s arm first. “Will you be here when I wake up?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Connor feels the weight pulling him under, but manages to mumble out something about this being better than any dream.

The last thing he sees before slipping into sleep is deep, peaceful brown eyes watching him warmly.

\- - -

Connor wakes up feeling more settled in his own head than before. He vaguely remembers a dream about angels and being in a cloud, but beyond that, the last thing he remembers is leaving campus at night.

“Fuck, the _midterm._ ”

“Excuse me?”

Connor looks to his left and sees, frankly, one of the hottest men he’s ever seen in his life. The scrubs add a bit to the fantasy, and Connor suddenly wants to play doctor with this guy. “I was studying for a midterm, it’s at noon on Tuesday.”

“Well, it’s Tuesday now.”

Connor lets his head fall against the hospital pillows, frustrated. “ _Fuck_. What happened?”

“You were in a bad car accident. You’re on painkillers now, but…” The man gestures to Connor’s arm, in a cast, and the brace over his chest. He can’t feel it, but Connor assumes it goes to his back, as well. The man gives him a moment to absorb these before gently folding back the blanket to reveal his left leg in a full cast. “It was… Pretty bad.”

“Well, you should see the other guy.”

The man quirks a smile at that. It suits him. “He, uh, he actually just got treated for some cuts and sent home.”

“ _What?_ ”

“He was in an SUV and ran a stop sign, hitting your car on the left side…”

Connor screams a low growl of frustration. “So I’m in here, and this fucking idiot that doesn’t know what a stop sign is gets to what, go home, fuck his wife, have her tell him how _glad_ she is that he’s okay? He gets to go to work and not potentially _lose the best internship opportunity in the country_?! _Fuck_ this.”

The man listened to the whole rant like a saint. It kind of made Connor more mad. “Do you want us to call anyone? We can do whatever we can to make sure the school won’t reprimand you –“

“Dude, seriously, I appreciate it, but trust me. My boss does whatever she wants. It’s usually awesome, but now it just means some second-rate hack might get my internship.”

The man nods, staying silent.

Connor breathes heavily – as heavily as possible with the chest brace – and calms down. “I’m sorry. You’re just trying to help. I’ll make any necessary calls myself. But thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

\- - -

Compound fracture of his left tibia, shattered patella requiring replacement, broken ulna, two broken ribs, and three fractured vertebrae.

His doctor was just as warm and nice as the nurse – Oliver, he learned his name was – and Connor hated it. He wanted to hate them.

\- - -

“Jello delivery for Mr. Walsh, room 537,” Oliver says on Connor’s third day in the hospital.

“Hilarious.”

Oliver placed the tray on Connor’s table, handing him a fork and a spoon.

Connor sighs and begins eating his meager meal. PB&J. Jello. Apple. Great lunch.

\- - -

Connor sees Oliver enter with a tray for dinner. “Seriously, dude, if it’s another sandwich, I just can’t, I’m sorry.”

Oliver smiles and places the tray down. “I called in a meal request. You looked like you could use an actual real, warm meal. I hope you like lo mein.”

“You’re a fucking angel, Oliver.”

“You know, that’s actually not the first time you told me that.”

Connor suddenly remembers the beautiful angel he dreamt about while he was under, and drops his fork. “Tell me right now.”

Oliver laughs and shakes his head and, okay, so it’s not the worst sound Connor has ever heard. “You just told me how you thought I was the most beautiful person you ever saw so I must be an angel. No big deal. You were seriously drugged at the time.”

Connor picks up his fork and begins to twirl a noodle around it, shrugging. “Well, at least I didn’t lie to you. _That_ might actually be embarrassing.”

He sees Oliver blush deep scarlet before rushing out the door, mumbling something about giving other patients their dinner.

Oh. _Oh._ Now this could be fun.

\- - -

Oliver notices that Connor doesn’t get any visitors. That’s the only reason he spends so much time in his room. The _only_ reason. It has nothing to do with how attractive Connor is, or how funny, or how smart, or… No. He’s doing his job.

\- - -

Connor never dared to ask for a mirror. He can feel the swelling and he doesn’t want to see it.

But on the fourth day, he requests a shower – because it’s Oliver’s day off and he really can’t have him sponge him down without getting a seriously embarrassing boner.

The nurse, Rebecca, doesn’t take any shit, but Connor can tell she’s cunning and smart, too. He somehow likes that about her.

“Seriously?” She asks, as she helps him to the bathroom with a sigh. Connor wonders how many men have made vile comments to her in the past. She probably assumes he requested one when Oliver wasn’t working so he’d get a female nurse. She’s not wrong, but her reasoning is.

“Don’t worry, I’m gay as fuck and have zero interest in making you uncomfortable or getting off on a sponge bath.”

Rebecca smirks. “So _that’s_ why you waited until Oliver’s day off.”

Connor shrugs as best he can in the brace. “He’s hot as fuck.”

“I’m sure he’ll be ecstatic to hear that.”

“He already knows. I told him when I woke up from anesthesia.” Connor catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror when they finally arrive to the bathroom. There’s a large gash on his forehead, surrounded by bruising. His lip is split, one of his eyes is swollen, and there’s a bit of swelling and bruising on one cheek.

He looks like shit.

And fuck, he’s been hitting on Oliver like this the whole time?!

Rebecca begins to work on the brace, but glances up and catches him gaping at his reflection. “All of that will heal quickly, you know.”

“God, I hope so. I’ve been hitting on Oliver for days looking like the fucking Elephant Man.”

Rebecca smirks at him. “He thinks you look rugged.”

Connor’s eyes snap to meet hers in the mirror. “What else has he said?”

“I am sworn to secrecy.”

\- - -

The next week passes quickly. Oliver is in and out of his room often, and one day, Connor asks to use his phone to call work and request some case files to review.

Oliver walks in with dinner and sees a guy around Connor’s age lounging in the arm chair next to Connor’s bed, looking way too at home in what has become _his_ spot.

“Dinner.”

Connor looks up and smiles.  Oliver doesn’t return it, just places the tray down and walks out, quickly.

\- - -

Oliver returns an hour later to clear the tray, and Wes is gone.

“Hey, are you okay?” Connor asks when Oliver makes no indication that he plans to make eye contact.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Oliver takes a deep breath before placing the tray back down. “Sorry, just… It’s been a long week.”

The words are out of Connor mouth before he can even think about what he’s saying. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Honestly, not really. Have a good night, Connor.”

“You, too.”

 _Do you wanna talk about it?_ God, when was the last time he even asked someone that, let alone was actually interested in listening?

He was fucked.

\- - -

Connor spends the next week hanging out with Oliver and reviewing case files. Connor asks if he can order a pizza one night when Oliver has a night shift and gets a large to split. When Rebecca starts her shift an hour later, Connor offers her a slice, and she joins them for a while before making her rounds.

Oliver excuses himself a while later, reminding Connor he has other patients and telling him to get some rest.

Rebecca smirks at him when he returns to the nurses’ station. “So he bought you dinner?”

“It’s not like that. He wanted pizza. I ate some.”

“Mm. I see.”

Oliver turns to her, exasperated. “If you have something to say, just say it.”

“You like him. You’re absolutely head-over-heels, over-the-moon in love with the guy, and you don’t even realize how much this is gonna kill you when he gets out of here and isn’t watching talk shows with you all day.”

Oliver stares at her as she speaks. God, can’t she be a little gentler with her thoughts for _once_?! “I have to make my rounds.”

He walks away, his eyes burning.

\- - -

The guy from Connor’s room steps off the elevator the next day with a girl in tow.

Oliver is suddenly feeling less irrationally jealous.

“Are you here to see Connor Walsh?”

The young man smiles and extends a hand. “Hi, I’m Wes. I didn’t get a chance to meet you before. This is Michaela. We work with Connor and need a pair of fresh eyes on the case.”

“Let me check if he’s back in his room, he had a physical therapy appointment on the books today. You can just wait here, it won’t take long.”

Oliver is seriously relieved. So the guy wasn’t Connor’s boyfriend. They work together. When he opens the door, he sees Connor struggling to stand, only moments from falling flat on his face.

“Connor!” He exclaims as he rushes over and wraps his arms around his waist. “God, you’re still in a cast, what the hell are you thinking?”

Once he’s back on the bed, Oliver attempts to help him lie back, but Connor pushes him back with his one good arm, shouting, “Fuck _off_ , Oliver!”

“Hey! Is everything okay in here?”

Oliver turns to see Rebecca in the doorway. “Yeah, I’ve got it.”

She smiles sympathetically, closing the door on her way out.

His attention returns to Connor once the door clicks shut. “What the _fuck_ , Connor?!”

“I’m sick of this! I just want to shower, I just want to walk to the bathroom and take a piss and a shower and I want to go to class and go to a bar and fuck someone and then go home and take _another_ goddamn shower just because I fucking can! I want my fucking life back!”

Oliver walks over to the bed with a sigh, and sits next to Connor, taking his uninjured hand in his. “You’ll be fine. You just need to suffer through this for a few more weeks, and then you have all the freedom in the world, okay?”

Connor’s head falls back on the pillows. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply for a moment, before opening them again to look Oliver directly in the eye. “How do you take your coffee?”

“What?”

“Two of my coworkers are on their way over, I assume they’re going to stop for coffee. I could let them know what your order is and grab one. To say thank you.”

Oliver smiles softly at him and squeezes his hand. “That won’t be necessary. I’m just doing my job. And they’re already here anyway.”

Connor’s face is an unreadable mask as he pulls his hand away from Oliver’s. “Next time, then. Can you send them in? I’m getting tired and need to get some work done before I pass out.”

“Sure thing.” Oliver gets up to leave, but pauses in the doorway. “It’s a chai tea latte with two shots of espresso, by the way. Just… In case you want to take me for coffee when you get out of here.”

He sees Connor’s smile as he closes the door behind him.

\- - -

“Good news, Mr. Walsh! You’re getting your brace off today, and you can go home tomorrow.”

Oliver looks up at Dr. Castillo from where he was changing Connor’s IV drip.

Connor’s grin is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

\- - -

They spend the night celebrating with grape juice – “I can’t sneak wine into a hospital, nurse or not.” – and fast food burgers and fries that Rebecca grabbed for them on her way in.

Oliver’s heart is breaking, but he plasters a smile on his face for Connor.

\- - -

He’s not even there when Connor is discharged, having been called down to oncology.

He tells himself it’s better this way, not really getting to say goodbye to Connor. At least he won’t cry.

\- - -

He wakes up to a knock on his door, and God, can’t he just _sleep_? He worked a double, got off at 10, and now he just wants to sleep.

So he ignores it and pulls a pillow over his head.

The person in the hallway is persistent though, and knocks again. And again.

Oliver groans and pulls himself out of bed. “God, I’m coming! Hold on!”

It’s Connor. Connor is in front of him, and his hair is gelled and he’s in a tee shirt that fits him like a wet dream and dark wash jeans that confirm what Oliver has suspected about his thighs and he looks amazing and _God,_ it’s _Connor._

He’s using a crutch with his uninjured hand, also holding a bag of takeout. “I was gonna bring flowers, but I needed a hand free and I didn’t know if you were allergic.”

“How did you find me?”

“Wes still had your number from that time I called him. So I did some sleuthing.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m not your patient anymore.”

“Okay.”

Connor’s face falls. “Wait are you… I’m an idiot. I’m sorry, I must have brain damage, I’ve literally _never_ been wrong about someone being intere… I’m so sorry.”

He begins to turn back toward the elevator, but Oliver stops him with a hand on his arm. “Connor, wait. Just… Before I do something really dumb, can you just tell me why you’re here?”

Connor half-heartedly lifts his good hand. “Dinner?”

“Is this a date?”

“If you want it to be.”

Oliver grabs Connor on the sides of his face, and pulls himself in so their lips finally, _finally_ touch. And _God,_ it’s perfect. He’s stupidly in love with this guy and he’s _here._ And he’s kissing _back._

Oliver pulls away first and takes the bag of food, opening his door widely so Connor can enter.

“I can’t believe you’re here.”

Connor pulls him in for another kiss.

\- - -

The elevator doors open, and Rebecca looks up, unsurprised to see Connor walking toward the nurses’ station. “Nuh-uh. No. The on-call room is completely off-limits to you after the last time.”

Connor smirks. “I’m just picking Oliver up since his car is in the shop. Don’t worry. We have a bed waiting for us back at his place.”

“Oh, _ew._ ”

“Hey, you’re here already!” Connor turns to see Oliver standing behind him. And, oh, he really shouldn’t have made that promise about the on-call room. How can someone look like a porn star in scrubs? “Let me just clock out and grab my coat.”

“Stop checking out your boyfriend. It’s creepy.”

Connor turns to Rebecca and smirks. “Aww, I’m sorry, _Becky._ It’s just… He’s way more fun to shower with. I hope we can stay friends.”

“Wes is getting the same education as you and he _can_ defend me in a court of law for chopping your dick off, I promise you that.”

Connor chuckles, and spots Oliver returning from the back room in his peripheral. “I’ve missed our talks, Rebecca. I’ll see you at the party next week.”

He grabs Oliver’s hand and leads him to the elevator. Before the doors close, he glances around the ward, fondly, as he squeezes Oliver’s hand.

He never does sue that guy in the SUV. He kind of owes him, actually.

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me on [tumblr](oliver-walshs.tumblr.com)


End file.
